Halo Page 12

  Inside, the trailer smelled of take-out food. Candles flickered on the table and fringed tapestries hung from the walls. Angela indicated we should sit down.

  “You first,” she said to Xavier as she took his hand and began to study it intently. The expression on his face told me he thought the whole thing was a joke. “Well, you have a curved heart line, which means you’re a romantic,” she said. “Short head line means you think directly and don’t beat around the bush. I’m sensing a strong blue energy from you that indicates that heroism is in your blood but also means you are destined to experience great pain, of what sort I can’t be sure. But you should be prepared for it as it’s not far away.”

  Xavier tried to look as though he was taking her advice seriously.

  “Thank you,” he said. “That was very insightful. Your turn, Beth.”

  “No, I’d rather not,” I said.

  “The future is not to be feared but confronted,” said Angela. The way she said it was almost a challenge.

  I held my hand out reluctantly for her to read. Although her fingers were rough and calloused, her touch was not unpleasant. The moment she stretched out my palm she seemed to stiffen slightly.

  “I can see white,” she said, her eyes shut as if in a trance. “I feel an indescribable happiness.” She opened her eyes. “What an amazing aura you have. Let me check your lines. Here we have a strong unbroken heart line, which suggests you will only love once in your lifetime. . . . Then let’s see—Good Lord!” She straightened my fingers and pushed them back to stretch out the skin.

  “What?” I asked in alarm.

  “It’s your life line,” the woman said, her eyes wide with alarm. “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

  “What about my life line?” I asked impatiently.

  “My dear”—Angela’s voice dropped to a mere whisper—“you don’t have one.”

  We walked back to Xavier’s car in awkward silence.

  “Well, that was weird,” he said finally as he opened the door and I climbed in.

  “Sure was,” I agreed, trying to sound lighthearted. “But who believes in psychics?”

  Xavier’s car suited him perfectly. He drove a sky blue 1957 Chevrolet Bel Air convertible. It had been lovingly restored down to the last detail, and made me feel like we’d traveled back in time. Its headlights gleamed in the darkness and its smooth leather seats were strangely comforting.

  “Beth, meet my baby,” he said. “She’s a pretty sweet ride.”

  “Hello,” I half raised my hand in an awkward wave and immediately felt like an idiot.

  “You do know cars are inanimate objects?” I teased.

  “Take it easy,” Xavier said. “You’ll hurt her feelings.”

  “I didn’t know cars had feelings.”

  “This one does. She’s got a life of her own.” Xavier patted the hood before pulling open my door. “Don’t be jealous of Beth, baby. You can’t be the only woman in my life.”

  He switched on the ignition and put the car into gear before turning the dial to a commercial radio station. The dulcet tones of the announcer welcomed listeners to his show, Jazz After Dark. I noticed Xavier’s car had a comforting smell—a combination of leather seats and a crisp woody scent that might have been his cologne.

  After riding only briefly in our hybrid Jeep, I wasn’t prepared for the noise of the vintage engine roaring to life and flattened myself against the passenger seat. Xavier glanced across at me with raised eyebrows.

  “You all right there?”

  “Is this car completely safe?”

  “Do you think I’m a bad driver?” He smirked.

  “I trust you,” I said. “I’m just not sure about cars.”

  “If you’re worried about safety, you might like to follow my example and put on that seat belt.”

  “The what?”

  Xavier shook his head in disbelief.

  “You worry me,” he muttered.

  “Are you going to be in trouble?” he asked when we pulled up outside Byron. I saw that the front porch light had been left on so my escape must have been noticed.

  “I don’t really care,” I said. “I had fun.”

  “So did I.” The moonlight glinted briefly on the cross at his neck.

  “Xavier . . .” I began tentatively. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.”

  “Well, I’m just wondering . . . why did you ask me out tonight? It’s just that Molly told me about . . . well . . . about . . .”

  “Emily?” Xavier sighed. “What about her?” A defensive note had crept into his voice. “People just can’t leave it alone, can they? That’s the thing about small towns—they get off on gossip.”

  I found it difficult to meet his gaze. I felt as if I’d crossed a boundary, but I couldn’t go back.

  “She said you’ve never really wanted to spend time with any other girl. So I guess I’m just curious . . . why me?”

  “Emily wasn’t just my girlfriend,” Xavier said. “She was my best friend. We understood each other in a way that’s hard to explain, and I thought I’d never be able to replace her. But then when I met you . . .” He trailed off.

  “Am I like her?” I asked.

  Xavier laughed. “No, nothing like her. But I get the same feeling when I’m around you that I used to have with her.”

  “What sort of feeling?”

  “Sometimes you meet a person and you just click—you’re comfortable with them, like you’ve known them your whole life, and you don’t have to pretend to be anyone or anything.”

  “Do you think Emily would mind?” I asked. “That you feel that way with me?”

  Xavier smiled. “Wherever she is, Em would want me to be happy.” I knew exactly where she was but thought better about sharing this information with Xavier just then. It was bad enough that I had struggled with the seat belt and my palm was minus a life line. I thought that might be enough surprises for one evening.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, neither of us wanting to break the mood.

  “Do you believe in God?” I said eventually.

  “You’re the first girl to ask me that,” Xavier said. “Most people think of religion as some kind of fashion statement.”

  “So you do?”

  “I believe in a higher power, a spiritual energy. I think life’s too complex to be an accident, don’t you agree?”

  “Absolutely,” I replied.

  I stepped out of Xavier’s car that night with the certainty that the world as I knew it had changed irrevocably. All I could think about as I climbed the steps to the front door was not the lecture that awaited me but how long before I could see him again. There were so many things I wanted to talk to him about.

  11

  Head over Heels

  The front door opened before I had a chance to knock. Ivy stood there, concern knitting her brow. Gabriel sat stony faced in the sitting room. He might have been a figure in a painting so still was his bearing. Ordinarily it would have prompted overwhelming remorse, but I was still hearing Xavier’s voice and remembering his strong hand on my back as he ushered me into Sweethearts, as well as the fresh scent of his cologne.

  Deep down I’d known when I clambered down my balcony that Gabriel would have sensed my absence almost immediately. He would also have guessed where I’d gone and who I was with. I knew the idea of coming to look for me would have crossed his mind, only to be dismissed. Neither he nor Ivy would have wanted to draw attention to us so publicly.

  “You shouldn’t have waited up, I was perfectly safe,” I said. The words unintentionally came out sounding too offhand, impudent rather than apologetic. “I’m sorry if I worried you,” I added as an afterthought.

  “No, you’re not, Bethany,” said Gabriel softly. He still hadn’t lifted his head. “You’re not sorry or you wouldn’t have done it.” I hated that he wouldn’t look at me.

  “Gabe, please,” I began, but he silenced me by raising his hand in pr
otest.

  “I was apprehensive about having you with us on this mission, and now you have proven yourself to be completely erratic.” He looked as if the words had left a bad taste in his mouth. “You’re young and inexperienced—your aura is warmer and more human than any other angel’s I have known, and yet you were chosen. I sensed we would encounter problems with you, but the others believed all would be well. But now I see you’ve made your decision—you’ve chosen a passing fancy over your family.” He rose abruptly.

  “Can we at least talk about it?” I asked. It was all sounding very dramatic, and I was sure it didn’t need to be if only I could get Gabriel to understand.

  “Not now. It’s late. Whatever you want to say can wait till morning.” And with that he left us.

  Ivy looked at me, her eyes wide and sad. I hated to end the night on such a sour note, especially seeing as moments ago, I couldn’t have been happier.

  “I wish Gabriel wouldn’t do that prophet-of-doom routine,” I said.

  Ivy looked suddenly tired.

  “Oh, Bethany, don’t say things like that! What you did tonight was wrong even if you can’t see that yet. Our counsel may not make sense to you right now, but the least you can do is think about it before things get out of hand. You will realize this is nothing but an infatuation. Your feelings for this boy will pass.”

  Ivy and Gabriel were talking in riddles. How did they expect me to see a problem when they couldn’t even articulate it? I knew my outing with Xavier was a minor deviation from the agenda, but what was the harm in that? What was the point of being on earth and having human experiences if we were going to pretend they didn’t matter? Despite what my siblings thought was best, I didn’t want my feelings for Xavier to pass. That made him sound like a cold or a virus that would eventually work its way out of my system. Never had I experienced such an all-consuming desire for someone’s presence. An expression I’d read somewhere crossed my mind: “The heart wants what the heart desires.” I couldn’t remember where it came from, but whoever wrote it had been right. If Xavier was an illness, then I didn’t want to recover. If my attraction to him constituted an offense that might incur divine retribution, then so be it. Let it rain down. I didn’t care.

  Ivy went up to her room and I was left alone with Phantom, who seemed to know instinctively what I needed. He came and nuzzled behind my knees, knowing it would force me to bend down and stroke him. At least one member of the household didn’t hate me.

  I went upstairs and peeled off my clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor. I wasn’t sleepy; instead I was weighed down by a feeling of being trapped. I stepped into the shower and allowed the hot water to pummel my shoulders and loosen my tight muscles. Even though we’d agreed never to do this in the house in case we could be seen, I partially released my wings until they pressed up against the glass of the shower screen. They were stiff from hours of being folded, and I felt them double in weight as they absorbed water. I tipped my head back, letting the water run down my face. Ivy had asked me to think about what I was doing, but for once I didn’t want to think, I just wanted to be.

  I dried myself hastily and with my wings still damp climbed into bed. The last thing I wanted was to hurt my brother and sister, but my heart seemed to turn to stone whenever I thought of never seeing Xavier again. I wished he was in my room right then. I knew what I would ask of him: to escort me from my prison. And I knew he wouldn’t hesitate. In my imagination I was the maiden tied to the train tracks, and the face of my tormentor alternated between that of my brother’s and sister’s. I realized I was being irrational, turning the situation into a melodrama, but I couldn’t stop myself. How could I explain to my family that Xavier was much more than a boy I’d developed a crush on? We’d only had a few short encounters and one date, but that was irrelevant. How could I make them see that a similar encounter was unlikely even if I lingered on the earth for a thousand lifetimes? I still possessed my celestial wisdom, and I knew it with the same certainty that I knew my days on this verdant planet were numbered.

  What I couldn’t determine and didn’t dare to ask was what would happen once the powers in the Kingdom learned of my transgression. I didn’t imagine the reaction would be mild. But was a little compassion and understanding too much to ask for? Wasn’t I as deserving of these as any human being who would be pardoned without a second thought? I wondered what would happen next. Would I be recalled in disgrace? I felt a chill run through me at the thought, but then the memory of Xavier’s face filled me with warmth once again.

  The matter was not raised the next morning or during the rest of weekend. On Monday morning Gabriel went through the ritual of making breakfast in silence. The silence continued until we reached the gates of Bryce Hamilton and parted company.

  Molly and her friends offered a welcome distraction. I let their conversation wash over me; it stopped me thinking. Today their source of entertainment was dissecting the latest fashion faux pas of their least favorite teachers. According to the girls, Mr. Phillips looked as though his hair had been cut by a lawnmower; Miss Pace wore skirts that would work better as carpet; and Mrs. Weaver, with her tailored slacks tucked under her breasts, had been dubbed Harry High-Pants. Most of them saw teachers as an alien species, undeserving of common courtesy, but despite their laughter, I knew there was no real malice intended in their jibes; they were just bored.

  Soon the conversation turned to matters of more importance.

  “Get excited, ’cause we’re going shopping soon!” said Hayley. “We thought we’d get the train to the city and check out the boutiques in Punch Lane. Molly, are you coming?”

  “Count me in,” Molly replied. “What about you, Beth?”

  “I don’t even know if I’m going to the prom,” I said.

  “Why would you even think about missing it?” Molly looked aghast, as if only an apocalypse might serve as a valid reason for not attending.

  “Well, for one I don’t have a date.”

  I didn’t confess this to Molly, but several boys had already broached the subject, seizing the opportunity of finding me alone in between classes. I had fended them off with noncommittal responses. I told everyone who asked that I wasn’t sure if I’d be going, which wasn’t entirely a lie. I was buying time and secretly hoping Xavier would ask me.

  A girl called Montana rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about that. The dress is way more important. If you get desperate, you can always find someone.

  I was about to say something about checking my planner when I felt a strong arm slip around my shoulders. The group froze, their gazes fixed on the space above my head.

  “Hi, girls, you don’t mind if I steal Beth for a minute, do you?” Xavier asked.

  “Well, we were in the middle of an important conversation,” Molly objected. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and she looked at me expectantly.

  “I’ll bring her right back,” Xavier said.

  There was something familiar about his manner toward me, which they didn’t fail to notice. Although I liked it, I was also uncomfortable to suddenly be the center of attention. Xavier guided me to an empty table.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  “I seem to be making a habit of rescuing you,” he replied. “Or did you want to spend the rest of lunch talking about spray tans and eyelash extensions?”

  “How do you even know about that stuff?”

  “Sisters,” he said.

  He seated himself comfortably at the table, ignoring the sidelong glances being aimed at us now from all directions of the crowded cafeteria. Some looked envious, others simply curious. Xavier had chosen to sit with me when almost any table in the room would have welcomed him and coveted his company.

  “We seem to be drawing attention,” I said and squirmed.

  “People like to gossip, we can’t help that.”

  “Why aren’t you with your friends?”

  “You’re more interesting.”

  “There’s nothin
g interesting about me,” I said, a note of panic creeping into my voice.

  “I disagree. Even your reaction to being called interesting is interesting.”

  We were interrupted by two younger boys approaching our table.

  “Hey, Xavier.” The taller of the two greeted him with a respectful nod. “The swim meet was awesome. I won four out of six heats.”

  “Good job, Parker,” Xavier said, slipping easily into his role as school captain and mentor. “I knew we were going to kick Westwood’s butt.”

  The boy beamed with pride.

  “Reckon I’ll make the nationals?” he asked eagerly.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised—Coach was pretty pleased. Just make sure you show up to training next week.”

  “You got it, man,” the boy said. “See you Wednesday!”

  Xavier nodded and they knocked their fists together. “See you, kiddo.”

  I saw right away that Xavier was good at dealing with people; he was affable without inviting familiarity. When the boy had gone, his expression changed back to one of concentration, as if what I had to say really mattered. It made my skin prickle and the corners of my lips twist into a smile. I could feel a blush starting in my chest, and soon it traveled to spread across my face.

  “How do you do that?” I asked to cover my confusion.

  “Do what?”

  “Talk to people so easily.”

  Xavier shrugged. “It comes with the territory. Hey, I almost forgot, I dragged you over here to return something.” He pulled a long, white, iridescent feather, flecked with rose, from the pocket of his blazer. “I found this in my car last night after I drove you home.”

  I snatched the feather from his hand and slipped it between the covers of my planner. I had no idea how it had ended up in Xavier’s car. My wings had been firmly tucked away.

  “Good luck charm?” Xavier asked, his turquoise eyes watching my face with curiosity.

  “Something like that,” I replied guardedly.

  “You look upset; is something wrong?”